


Thermodynamic Equilibrium

by bethycupcake



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Early Partnership, F/M, One Shot, Panic Attack, just kinda fluffy nonsense, pre-peraltiago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 21:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethycupcake/pseuds/bethycupcake
Summary: "perfect couple: one person had cold hands, the other has warm hands. together, they maintain the ideal temperature for hand holding"Jake discovers Amy has cold hands, Amy discovers Jake has warm hands.





	Thermodynamic Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> so this is inspired by this post:  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/5f9650cc9e6dd38970f98c7fad6cd85b/tumblr_o5uq0oDnO71ru5q7ko1_500.jpg  
> idk I guess I thought Jake and Amy would be like this so here is my take.

Amy Santiago always had cold hands.

It was something that Jake had found out a few months into their partnership.

For a long time after Amy joined the nine-nine, they had only been assigned easy cases to work on as partners; B&Es, thefts, vandalism, the low-profile cases that didn’t require much work so that they had some time to figure out their dynamic and prove to Terry (who, let’s face it, was more of a captain than McGinley had ever been) that they could work well together. Then, finally, he assigned them their first murder.

It was a high-profile case, one involving a string of murders, all young children, so it needed to be solved, and fast, resulting in countless late nights at the precinct, hours upon hours spent scouring CCTV footage and witness statements, trying to find something, _anything_ , that tied them all together.

Then, on their third consecutive all-nighter of staring at evidence, they finally found a similarity; every child had visited the same doctor just days before they went missing.

After a perfectly timed raid, followed by a short car chase (Jake had tried _so_ hard not to enjoy it, desperately picturing dead bodies everywhere in his attempt to enjoy it less), they finally had the guy behind bars.

“Santiago! We did it!” Jake exclaimed, approaching Amy where she was sat on the curb where they caught him, nursing what looked to be a twisted ankle.

“We sure did,” Amy beamed at him and stood, clearly proud, and Jake ignored the tiny flutter he felt in his chest at the sight of her smile.

Jake couldn’t help but feel that the late nights had somehow brought them together, and made them stronger in their partnership. Which, he reasons, is why, when he raised his hand and met Amy’s in the middle in a high-five, he curled his fingers round it and did one of this weird ‘bro-hugs’ that Jake never did with _anyone,_ let alone his _colleague._

Once the confusion about what the _hell_ he just did, Jake registered just how cold Amy’s hand had felt in his, despite it being summer, and the fact that they _just chased down a perp._

Jake shouted “ _Jesus,_ Santiago, your hands are _freezing_!”

Any weirdness Jake thought he felt dissipated when Amy rolled her eyes and turned to find Terry.

 

* * *

 

Jake Peralta always had warm hands.

It was something Amy had found out exactly eleven weeks into their partnership.

The case they had been working on, their first high-profile one, was taking its toll on everything from Jake’s messiness (he was messy enough on a _good_ day, but with extra stress added to the mix… Amy was still cleaning blue liquid from her white blouse) to Amy’s mental stability. (Again, not great on a good day. Amy had gotten through the entirety of her stash of shame cigarettes within the first 72 hours of the case being assigned.)

On the first all-nighter they pulled, two days before they finally, _finally_ solved the case, Amy lost it entirely.

They had had not new evidence for three days, and the stuff they had was surely permanently burned to the inside of Amy’s eyelids she’d been staring at it so long. Although, when she thought about it, she was staring at the paper in front of her without really _seeing_ it.

The lack of new evidence was painful, and caused her to close in on her own thoughts, to the point of no return, the point where her nails were bitten shorter than had ever been since she kicked the habit when she was twelve, and she could no longer hear Jake’s complaints, nor his head banging against the break room table.

Seemingly without even meaning to, like she was sleepwalking, Amy got out of her seat and headed out into the bullpen, not hearing Jake’s somewhat muffled “Santiago, are you alright?”.

She made a beeline for the roof, desperate for air, barely noticing the fact that it was dark and the only one around was the janitor who came to polish the floor during the night.

The cold night air brought her back to her senses, and she breathed deeply, thankful for the change in both temperature and air. She felt a sudden wave of anger and kicked the wall, the feeling quickly transforming into sadness and despair at the lives those children will never get to live.

She slumped against the wall, finally breaking, and sunk to the floor, the cool air almost harsh on the tear tracks that ran down her face. She could feel it happening before it did; all the signs were there, and then suddenly she couldn’t breathe, like she was trapped underwater and couldn’t get air.

Amy didn’t even hear the door open or see Jake approaching until he was directly in front of her, hands firm on her knees, asking her what’s wrong. At her lack of response, Jake took one of her hands in his and placed it over his heart, holding it there, telling her to focus on the feeling of it beating against her fingers and breathe with him.

Once she had regained her composure, and they were sat down against the wall in the middle of the night, Amy marvelled at how warm his hands were against hers, and pretended that the heat she felt in her cheeks was because of embarrassment, and definitely _not_ because she imagined how warm the rest of him was, and how great cuddling him would be in the winter.

 

* * *

 

 

When they finally started dating, neither Jake nor Amy were fond of PDA, particularly at the precinct where their friends could make fun of them or, heaven forbid, _Captain Holt saw them_. But one thing they were always happy to do was hold hands.

Amy’s were always too cold, and Jake’s were always too warm. And, together, they maintained the ideal temperature for hand holding; their very own thermodynamic equilibrium.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm aware that the whole panic attack thing had been done multiple times before for these guys, but I just thought it fit so well. anyways, hope you enjoyed. as always kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, and feel free to come find me on tumblr kind-sober-fullydressed  
> <3


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